


Change from Within

by Totalspiffage



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Multi, but does build up in earlier chapters, rating for future chapters probably, second pairing wont happen for a while, slight canon divergence probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-04-13 09:33:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4516797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Totalspiffage/pseuds/Totalspiffage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enfys Lavellan is a rebel, an upstart, and her Keeper sends her to the conclave in order to monitor the humans and maybe teach her a lesson or two. Instead she gets swept up in the Inquisition. As a proud Dalish rogue who is fond of sabotaging disrespectful shems, learning to keep her mouth shut for the sake of diplomacy will be trying, but it's the only way to get anything changed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Figured I'd write a little about Enfys Lavellan. I have no idea how long this will be, but I can tell you if you wanted more options for the dalish to have more sass, that's Enfys in a nutshell.
> 
> This story will feature several romances, a bit changed from canon. Solas's romance will end differently, and she'll move on, so if you're here for that, be aware!
> 
> I also am trying to avoid just reliving the game's events, so little description of actual shit unless I change things.
> 
> Enfys Lavellan:  
> Fanart by the wonderful Sal: http://cremisiass.tumblr.com/post/125064176498/drew-totalspiffages-new-inquisitor-enfys-lavellan  
> Actual screen image http://40.media.tumblr.com/6e89c9ed560527811c4d5292dae33c77/tumblr_ns1eimeX1h1qc60bxo1_500.jpg

Gwyn held little Enfys tightly in her lap while she tried to wriggle free, “I want to see the ritual, Mamae!” The camp was congregated around a young elf, only now able to take the ink of the vallaslin. Their keeper was hunched over him, needle in hand, focused entirely on her work.

Other than the small blonde girl writhing, there was no sound, even the musicians had set down their instruments for the night. The only sound was a quiet prayer that the Keeper spoke to herself, and the usual quiet symphony of the forest. The fires in the camp of clan Lavellan burned bright, and the clan waited eagerly to see their newest fully accepted member.

Sion was city-born, having been brought to the camp one night when he disturbed one of their wards in the forest. The keeper had found him and brought him in, “He is looking for a family,” he said, to the gathered clan Lavellan, “and we will accept him as nothing less.”

His parents were killed one night, right in front of him. He was told to run, and hoped, as many city elves did at one point, that he could run away with the dalish. Fortunately for him, he found clan Lavellan.

Gwyn recalled her first meeting with the child, alone, unfamiliar with many elven words, and so scared. He sat with the keeper, who helped him with his grief, and sat him down with the rest of the clan children to introduce them. A young couple who could not have children offered to take him as their own, and they had loved Sion as such. Since then, Sion had been a perfect clan-mate, and many were anxious to see if he could handle the needle’s pinpricks with ease. He had made no sound as of yet, and it looked as though he would make it through his entire inking.

“Mamae who did Sion pick?”

“Ghilan’nain, lethallan, mother of halla. You know how our halla adore him so.”

The halla always recognized a new clan member, and only if they approved were they allowed to remain. On his first night, the halla approached him and several of them immediately took to him. The clan knew it was destined that he be with them.

“I want Elgar’nan’s,” Enfys said, curling up against her mother, the shock of bright blonde hair contrasting starkly with her dark skin.

Gwyn chuckled and rubbed her child’s back, “You always say that, lethallan, you may change your mind when you come of age.”

The child shook her head stubbornly and was interrupted by the Keeper standing and raising her staff to the sky.

“Sion, you are of Clan Lavellan, your vallaslin colored and marked, having made no sound, no protest. Ghilan’nain, guide him as you guide our noble halla; to a long life, safe within his clan.”

A cheer broke out, and Sion sat up, smiling, shaking, his caretakers approaching him with tears in their eyes, their adopted son now of age, and passing his rite with flying colors. Gwyn could hardly imagine the day would come for even her little one, her Enfys, but it would, and too soon. The toddler finally broke free of the grip and ran into the crowd to throw her arms around Sion’s legs.

“I’m glad you made it, you’re my favorite,” Sion lifted her easily, and Enfys laughed as the festivities picked up once more.

 

* * *

 

“I don’t know why the keeper thinks sending YOU is a good idea,” Sion said, rolling his eyes at the blonde elf kneeling and packing a large rucksack.

Enfys shrugged, “Perhaps because she already knows I can observe without conflict.”

“I mean, yes, but you often don’t,” Sion replied, “How many times have you snuck into human settlements to cause trouble?”

Thinking for a moment before responding, she counted, “27. Not including the horse incident.”

Sion gave her a fatherly stare. “You know we all include the horse incident. You’re lucky the keeper didn’t turn you over to them.”

Enfys simply huffed and went back to packing her tent for her trip. “The envoy will be here soon. A few more clans want representation. Just in case.” Sion nodded and Enfys sat back on her knees.

“I am happy for you, lethallan. You’ve seemed rather bored these past few months. Perhaps you needed this.”

“I won’t let the keeper down. I know she wanted to send Eilwen, but for some reason chose me. I think Eil will be bitter with me forever,” Enfys said, biting her lip.

“I would say just send you both, but… after that fight you two had…” Sion fell silent and Enfys looked at the ground, her cheeks darkening ever so slightly.

“It wasn’t either of our faults, but you know how the clan had hoped. It wouldn’t have worked out. We’re too different.” Enfys didn’t like talking about Eilwen anymore. They’d fallen in love at the age of 14, the First and the Huntress. Gwyn had pushed for the relationship to succeed, but in the end, it just wasn’t meant to be.

“It’s been almost a year, En. I’m sure you can find someone.”

“That’s encouraging, but unnecessary right now. Anyway, Cadfael’s coming too.  I haven’t seen him so excited since he managed to take down a ram the first time.” Enfys chuckled. Cad was endearing, but sometimes more of a babysitting task.

“I heard that!” Cad shouted, as he turned to face them from the shade of the nearby aravel.

“It’s going to be weird travelling without the halla’s guidance. I suppose it’s different when we have a destination. I’ve never been on a boat before.”

Sion placed a hand on your shoulder, “Your mother would be proud, da’len. I’m sure everything will work out. Ghilan’nain will guide you.”

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Ghilan’nain is useless without halla.

Enfys found herself bound, head full of horrors as her left hand felt as though it were on fire. Her skin prickled, she could feel the veil- was this was mages talked about, she wondered. Every hair stood on edge. Something was very, very wrong. Her heart raced and her mind was foggy. Why couldn't she remember...?

The consequences of the explosion were tremendous. Everyone there died. Except her. Cadfael was dead. His mother would be traumatized. Her keeper would be horrified. Eil… Eil would be dead if she were here. She silently said a prayer from her position on the floor, a eulogy for Cad, and thanking whatever gods that her former lover still yet lived.

And worse, the Divine was dead. The human chantry was in a mess. And she was dalish. This always ended in death. If they suspected her… Enfys’s heart raced as she imagined an exalted march tearing through every dalish camp in the southern countries. Creators… These shems wouldn’t believe her, would they? She imagined the clan's heartache, the Keeper's cry and the storyteller's songs for the dead. She held back a dry sob and stared at the floor.

She kept her mouth shut, to conceal her fear. And as soon as she could get a weapon, she’d feel safer. The pain in her hand tore through again, the room lighting up in streaks of green light. What had happened to her? She only remembered bits and pieces. Separating from Cad to cover more ground in the conclave, and then… spiders? Green. Like the mark on her hand.

She needed to get free, but they were keeping her alive. Why hadn’t they killed her yet?

The door creaked open, and in stepped Cassandra Pentaghast.

 

* * *

 

Five days later, and the tables had completely turned. Some worshipped her, called her “herald”. She wondered if they truly saw her Vallaslin. The Vallaslin for the God of Vengeance. The one she’d gotten to represent her bitterness over the abuse of her people and of the city elves. Of course they didn’t. They probably even forgot she was an elf most times. Or “left out” the information. Figures. She wondered if they’d ask her to cover her ears.

And yet, some looked to her for guidance. She had the attention of the world. Now she just needed to make them listen up. And if it took using her mark to speak out against the abuses of elves, then so be it.

“Do you mind if I ask you a personal question?” Cassandra asked, approaching Enfys as she picked elfroot near where Cassandra was training. Enfys sighed internally.

“Depends.” Cassandra wasn’t the worst, she certainly showed Enfys a lot of respect, but she was still a shem, and that meant invasive, almost offensive questions most times.

“Why did you pick that mark?” She indicated the marks on her face that stood out against her darker skin that marked her as a fully-fledged dalish adult.

“My vallaslin, you mean,” Enfys corrected, “Elgar’nan is the God of Vengeance. I was young, angry, I wanted revenge on the people who made MY people suffer.” Enfys looked Cassandra dead in the eye, “Is that what you wanted to know?”

Cassandra shifted uncomfortably, “I suppose that makes sense. I apologize if that is not something you wanted to share with me.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t find a younger Enfys. I used to go around to human settlements and make them pay for their treatment of elves. I brought extra food to starving people. Our clan even took in alienage orphans now and then.”’ She sighed. No one could get how much she hated the treatment of her people. She knew most dalish scoffed at alienage elves, but her clan- and Sion- ensured that she knew just how bad they had it. She’d hunted so much to ensure they had extra to spare whenever they came near human settlements. “Things are not good for us.”

“I am sorry. Truly,” Cassandra said, a tinge of actual understanding to her tone.

“It’s better that I’m getting a shot to really change things.”

Cassandra nodded, looking off into the distance, “I am… sorry. About your clanmate? You mentioned him being unaccounted for. I trust we sent word to your clan swiftly enough. Was he your-,”

“Friend, clanmate, family. But no more. It would have been my-,” Eil was not her anything anymore, she reminded herself, “former lover to join me here, however he was sent instead.”

What would Eilwen say? _Creators, what a mess you’ve stepped in, En_ , her voice rang clearly for just a moment, _Pity I can’t lend you my staff to help, hm_? Enfys knew the minute she said she DID need help, or even a friendly face, Eil would definitely volunteer. She’d bring baskets of herbs, _with Sylaise’s blessing to Andraste’s Herald_. As a joke.

Eilwen should have been in her shoes.

Cassandra noticed Enfys’s inner contemplation and stepped back, “I’ll let you get back. Thank you for the answer.”

She heard Cassandra step away, her boots crunching in the snow and the distant sounds of her soldiers practicing while her commander shouted instructions.

Enfys tightened the scarf around her neck. The cold was harsh in the frostbacks, after all. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enfys receives word from her clan, reflects on things, and finds comfort in the familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some flashback-PDA kinda with Enfys and Eilwen. God the more I write them the more I'm stuck on them, but so is Enfys, and that needs to change, haha.

“That will be all, thank you very much. Please, have a tip. I’m not sure how much they pay you, but I’m sure it’s not enough,” Enfys said to the elven servant that brought her food. The poor girl’s eyes were wide as she handed her several gold pieces.

“Thank you, herald, I,-” she stammered.

“You’re very welcome, I hope it can get you a new coat. It’s cold and I’ve seen you shivering out there,” Enfys said warmly, hoping the young elf didn’t take offense. City elves could be touchy, thinking they weren’t doing their job when really you just trying to help.

The servant bowed low and then gave her a cautious smile before scurrying off.

The food smelled good. It wasn’t her usual fare by any means, but it was decent considering some of the rations she knew the soldiers got. Clearly Josephine wanted her to have the best they could provide. it was some kind of beef-vegetable mixture topped with potato tonight- she’d have to ask the name sometime, but it was delicious, whatever it was, if very heavy.

She took her dinner in her cabin, usually, put off by all the whispers of the humans as they watched her intently. The only one who never did, of course, being the strange elf that had saved her.

Part of her shunned him. He wasn’t dalish, and clearly wasn’t from an alienage. So how had he survived as he clearly had? She huffed, sitting back for a moment, taking a break from her food.

Cassandra was, of course, a noble human warrior. She was worthy of respect, although very intimidating, if honorable and fair. Cullen was much the same, although she didn’t trust him, being an ex-templar. They’d had run-ins with templars before and it had always been nerve-wracking and tense. Never good. Varric was fun. He was light-hearted, but acted like a human regardless, having no doubt spent time around them in Kirkwall his whole life.

Leliana was a little different. She knew more about the dalish, probably from her interaction with the Hero of Ferelden. Enfys didn’t know much about him other than that he was Dalish, of the Sabrae clan. Leliana herself, however, was cold and calculating, experienced after years of serving the human Divine. En wasn’t sure how much she could be trusted, but she had no choice.

Josephine, on the other hand, had greeted her correctly, and had sent off word to her clan immediately with elven runners (not humans). That impressed Enfys. She constantly asked about her heritage, her ways of life, writing it in a little book that Enfys only could assume was some sort of compendium of etiquette.

Enfys herself was getting better at the human common language. Their keeper had taught her to read it when she was very young, but they rarely practiced in the clan. Gradually, she found it coming back with every letter she read or book she picked up. She was even writing some of her own letters now and again.

En pushed away the remainder of her food, too much for her usually light appetite. Instead she reached in her coat to pull out a letter that she’d received earlier. Finally, a response from her clan, but she hadn’t wanted to read it in front of anyone or risk them seeing it. Well, aside from Leliana, who had probably read it already. The familiar writing of her keeper felt like home and she sighed, reading it over.

> _Enfys,_
> 
> _You had us worried, Da’len, we thought we lost you both in that accident. Almost as worrisome is you playing this Herald business- is it true you have a mark on your hand that can fix the sky? Eilwen has had her ear to the human settlements to the west, listening for the news of your Inquisition. I believe she is worried. Please tell her what is going on. I shall let her continue, as I have some things to attend to, but stay safe, Da’len. Stay with that group for now. This is a threat to us all, and no matter whose god they paint you as, you are Elgar’nan’s child._
> 
> _Dareth shiral_
> 
> _-Keeper Deshanna Istimaethoriel_

 

Below, a message in rushed letters was scribbled.

> _En,_
> 
> _Creators, I am so happy you’re safe. I know… things have been awful between us since… well, you know. I’m sorry it had to happen that way. I just. We lost Cad, and they had you in their custody, and I was so scared for you. You are still important to me, En, no matter what is or isn’t between us._
> 
> _The humans say you’re Andraste’s Herald. I can only imagine your face the first time someone called you that. And you’re going along with it? It’s probably for the best for everyone, but still. I’m surprised. You’re doing exactly what I told you you’d have to do to change things. And you might actually DO it!_
> 
> _If you need me, please send word. Keeper Istimaethoriel has given me leave to join you, but I know you may not want me there. I understand, and I won’t press, but in a sea of strangers it might be good to see a familiar face? I suppose I just want to be sure you’re alright. Maybe. And I suppose it won’t matter that I’m a mage anymore there, hm?_
> 
> _Please, tell me if you need me._
> 
> _-Eilwen_

Enfys re-read the letters, and then re-read the second again. Eilwen seemed panicked, anxious that she was okay, that she was feeling alright. Tears welled up in her eyes and she wiped them away, angrily.

She imagined Eilwen’s dark red hair, her milk-white skin and dark green eyes. They shared a tent in the camp for years. They had been considered a married couple in all but name. Her staff would sit in the corner as she studied, book after book after book, all falling apart. her hair smelled faintly of the books at night, when she was curled against Enfys. Her fingers were softer, had callouses in different spots from her staff. She had less muscle, but she was lean and fit, and could spar with her staff alone.

She _missed_ her.

It was just as fucking well that while the world fell apart that all Enfys could think about was her ex. Like she didn’t have more important things to focus on.

She took a deep breath.  Actual issues first. She’d deal with Eilwen later.

Sleep took Enfys in a timely fashion that night.

 

* * *

 

“En, wake up ma’arlath.”

Eil’s voice, low, soothing, hypnotic. Enfys was in her tent, the one next to the Keeper’s Aravel near the center of camp. The sun was shining through the fabric and their large bedroll was soft and warm and welcome in the chilly spring morning.

Eil laid next to her, and they were both bare except for the blanket over them both. Eilwen reached for her neck, smiling gently, her eyes just barely open as she woke, looking at her with quiet awe. Her dark red hair mussed, a long, slender ear peeking out from between the strands.

“Enfys,” she said, contentedly, pulling the other elf closer and smiling into a gentle kiss.

She could feel Eilwen so clearly, the softness of her skin, the curves of her breasts pressing into her own, their legs intertwining with each others’. Eilwen toyed with the hair at the nape of her neck, and Enfys sighed at her lover’s ministrations. The Keeper would wake soon, they couldn’t dally long. But it was so tempting, Eilwen wanted her, and she wanted nothing more than to spend her morning between her lover’s legs, writing poetry into her skin with nothing but her tongue.

“This is wrong,” Enfys said to herself. This wasn’t how things were anymore.

Eilwen’s expression shifted ever so slightly, “You could have this again.”

“I want it. But they need me more than I need this.”

Her palm lit up with a bright green light that overtook all else.

She woke quietly, and the birds of Haven chirped. There was no Eilwen by her side. There was no demon, either. She’d never been able to remember her dreams well before now, and somehow, that fact made her envy her past self even more.

 

* * *

 

She found herself up before most of the Inquisition soldiers, who were only just getting up for morning training. She needed something warm. Tea, preferably, although the herald’s rest wasn’t open just yet. She sat nearby, at the fire Varric usually stood by, hoping to brood long enough until she could get some. Then suddenly a cup of something hot, herbal, and something that smelled suspiciously like home was in her hand.

“Bad dreams?” Solas asked, as she took the cup with a bemused expression.

“Yes, but-,” she stammered, “This is a dalish recipe!” He wasn’t Dalish. Was he?

“Is it? I wouldn’t quite know. I’m not fond of it myself, but I find it does help after those rare, unnerving dreams.”

Enfys snorted, taking a tiny sip, the steam rising swiftly and making lazy patterns in the air. “I didn’t know you could HAVE bad dreams. Doesn’t the fade respond well to you, _hahren_?” It was a subtle jibe, not lost on him. He chuckled slightly, but he showed no sign of offence.

“The Fade reflects reality, _da’len_ , and I’m sure you are aware of the troublesome nature of that, at least.” He smiled softly.

He was correct on that count, and she took another sip, revelling in the taste of something so familiar in this strange land. She sighed and clutched the metal cup tightly.

He sat next to her slowly, and after a moment, he asked, “Care to enlighten me on what could so frighten "Andraste’s Herald" that she clings so to her morning tea?”

She didn’t care to, but she did, “It wasn’t… scary. It was a memory, as you’ve described. My memory. But something was just so wrong. So empty. I knew it wasn’t true.”

He looked confused, and she took it as an implicit question.

“It showed me and my… previous… lover in our morning ritual. It was too good to be true, after the fallout of our breakup. She had sent me a letter with my clan’s correspondence, and it must have been on my mind.” Quickly, she brought the cup up. It was cooling already, and she took a large sip, staring out into the sunrise.  She added, almost defensively, “I know there are more important things to be scared of.”

“It is always disarming when the Fade seeks our deepest thoughts. The fact you were able to realize it was false was a good sign.” Solas paused, “You are strong.”

She looked at him, but he was staring off into the distance as well. He looked pensive.

“I suppose. I guess I’m just getting used to all this… responsibility stuff sooner than I expected.”

She downed the rest of the tea, setting the cup aside.

“What do you dream about, when you’re not wandering the Fade?” She asked, suddenly wondering.

Solas looked down, his face growing solemn in the light of the dawn. “Things far gone. It does not matter. I have seen them so many times, the Fade knows it cannot tempt me.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enfys cleans things up in the Hinterlands, while despising the special treatment she is garnered at every turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops I keep writing. As always, kudos and comments welcome! I promise we'll have more companion interaction when we pick up Sera, Viv and Bull.

The Hinterlands were beautiful, Enfys knew that much. However, her idea of fun was not “fixing shemlen problems in the wilderness.”

And primarily, they were shemlen problems. Right?

The mess the mages and templars were making was inconvenient, maybe, and both sides were out of control. But it was not worthy of being called a war. The mages were finally free, but still threatened, and the templars had gone power-mad. That’s how she saw it. Of course the mages were dangerous. They were scared, and a scared person will do anything.

Still, she sunk her blades into armor and robe alike, protecting the citizens displaced by the “war”, as they called it. She scoffed to herself.

“This is hardly a war,” she commented, speaking her thoughts and looking at the burning buildings. “Wars have rank, organization. These are just scared people, on both sides. Someone needs to calm them down.”

“I could not agree more,” Cassandra piped up, sheathing her sword as they headed toward Master Dennett’s Farm.

“Hell, I’ve seen first hand the damage a few scared people can do,” Varric said quietly, “There’s gotta be some way to resolve this.”

Solas chimed in with a thought, swinging his staff back around to the clip on his back.“And even if we do, would the rest follow? As you said, there is no rank, no file any longer.”

Enfys had a sinking feeling she’d have to clean this up soon.

 

* * *

 

That night, she sat around the campfire, inquisition soldiers making rounds, scouting the area, cooking. Even in the wilderness, she didn’t have to lift a finger. She volunteered to go hunt ram for their dinner, but even that was shot down. She was frustrated. She felt like a guest, and even guests in her home clan were required to contribute, even something as small as a story to entertain them.

Solas seemed to note her frustration. “This makes you uncomfortable, being unable to help.”

She was confused, looking at him as he sat next to her, setting his staff on the ground. “How did you guess?”

“You’ve been staring at the fire as though you intended to snuff it out with your gaze alone, _da’len_.”

That much was true, she gave him that.

“I’m sick of these shems treating me like a delicate child.”

“I think they wish to honor you, not treat you any less, strange as it is for our kind to hear,” Solas himself looked perplexed, “It is a welcome change from what I am used to.”

Enfys made a sound of disgust and kept her voice low, “They honor me by calling me Andraste’s Herald. That may mean something to them, but it does insult to me. How many elves are killed in Andraste’s name? How many elves are enslaved here in all but name because it is right.”

Solas merely looked at her, her face contorted with anger and contrasting in the flickering campfire light, “You are truly angry, and you have right to be. Our people have lost much. I can only assume this is why you chose your vallaslin.”

She nodded, “I- do you believe in the Creators? I never thought to ask, but you wear no vallaslin.”

He frowned ever so slightly, “I believe they may have once existed, but not as some view them now.”

She sighed, of course he didn’t really believe.

He seemed to sense her disappointment, “I mean no offense to you personally, Enfys.”

“I know,” his beliefs really did clash with her own, and she was annoyed, but she had no right to shun an ally.

“I’m just not sure how to lead except by following my Keeper’s example. I’ve led hunting groups, scouting parties. That’s as much experience as I have. Now they’re holding me up as some beacon of truth and righteousness and expecting me to save Thedas with my magical glowing hand trick,” she picked at her glove spitefully. The green mark softly shone through it.

“I am glad it is not hurting you anymore at least.”

She looked at him then, and his sincerity was plain on his face, for once.

“Who _are_ you?”

His mouth opened, as if to answer, but they were interrupted.

“Herald, you need rest for tomorrow, we have business with Master Dennett in the morning.”

Enfys huffed and stood, ushered back to the tent she shared with Cassandra with no further protest.

 

* * *

 

The terror made a sickening crunch as her blades sunk into it, ichor seeping onto the metal with a hiss. The last demon fell and she raised her left hand, feeling the energy flowing through her hand as she slowly pulled the tear in the veil shut. She sat on the ground a moment, catching her breath and waiting for the pain in her hand to fade as it usually did after closing a rift.

She felt a cooling sensation on it and looked up to see Solas channeling a small amount of healing energy toward her. It was enough to stop the hurting for now.

“Thank you,” she said curtly, before standing again and sheathing her daggers. “We should tell Dennett we’ve finished scouting and clearing the area. Have we gotten all the towers he marked?

Cassandra nodded, “We should head back to Haven afterward, and send our troops to do the actual construction. Enfys nodded. “Good then. I’m bloody exhausted. Let’s let him know and then make our way to Haven in the morning.”

Now that the area was secure, she felt confident in going to bathe.

“Solas, a word,” she called, slowing her pace to let him catch up as she led them back to camp.

“I’d like to bathe tonight, with this demon ichor on us. Can you do me a favor and set wards for me? I’ll ask Cassandra if she wishes to join me as well, but I don’t think she needs it like I do.” She smiled gently, and he nodded.

“I would hate for you to be mauled by bears when trying to scrub off ichor,” he said, mischief glinting in his eyes, “It would make for a terrible story.”

She laughed, then, for what felt like the first time in weeks.

 

* * *

 

“The towers will be built here, here, and here,” she said, marking the map as best as she recalled, “I have placed markers at each of the spot, and the soldiers can double check with Dennett’s assistant.”

Cullen nodded, “To work, then.”

“Now, Val Royeaux. Mother Giselle has pledged her support to us, and that should be the talk of the hour there,” Josephine said, frowning in the light of her candle.

“We need to be careful. They will have assassins trained on us, of course.” Her spymaster said it flippantly, but Enfys worried her lip regardless.

Enfys spoke, “Regardless, they will not take well to an elf bursting through the gates of their biggest city with anything but a small envoy.”

Leliana nodded, “Especially after the elven uprising in Halamshiral. They are likely scared of the power you hold. The speed of the chantry to disavow our actions made that clear enough.”

Josephine, “Not all talk is bad. Even if they are scared, seeing you there, in the capital, making an appearance, will do you favors. Your name will be known, and that is worth the risks.”

Shem politics were confusing. Popularity contests won you favors, false gestures garnered support. She felt dirty playing along. “Fine. We leave in the next few days. I need time to prepare and make sure I don’t make an utter fool of myself in the city.”

Josephine looked sympathetic, “I can show you basic etiquette. I am sure it is foreign to you, and it is important that we make a good impression.”

Leliana’s smile was crooked, “And I can show you the best places to hit a bodice to make it snap. Nothing will embarrass a noble more, and they won’t even know it was you,” A tempting offer, if anyone dared call her _knife-ear_ in the city, as humans were wont to do.

She wondered briefly if she shouldn’t hide her ears, don a helmet or hat. But she dashed it from her mind. The humans needed to see her leading, strong, proud, her marks blatant on her face and upsetting their world more than they ever could. She needed them to see her, standing tall, her weapons on her back, her hand glowing, and she needed them to follow.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enfys returns from Val Royeaux and goes up to recruit Bull- on the way home a nightmare leaves her reeling.

The next few weeks were a challenge. Between the trek to Val Royeaux, capital of the most human snobbery she’d ever encountered, and recruiting Madame Vivienne and Sera, she was thankful to get out of the city without being called knife-ear more times than necessary.

Enfys arrived back in Haven and immediately went for the war room. Arguments again, judging by the raised voices echoing through the chantry. She opened the door and everyone stopped for a moment, and then Josephine greeted her.

“Herald! I’m glad things went well in Val Royeaux! We’ve received many an inquiry from some very prestigious houses. No doubt Madame Vivienne was involved. Excellent job recruiting her.”

Leliana chimed in, “Now would be the time to decide what to do about the mages and the templars. I suggest riding to Redcliffe as soon as-,”

“Absolutely not. We cannot risk abominations running wild with the breach in the sky. We don’t have enough Templars to-,”

“We aid the mages,” Enfys said, ignoring Cullen completely, “I will ride for Redcliffe as soon as I feel ready.”

“I understand it is very tempting considering their power, but please-,” He said again. Enfys looked him directly in the eye, tilting her head.

“Commander,” she spoke, her voice sharp, and his protest fell unfinished, “I believe you need to set your clearly deep-rooted biases aside.”

He looked almost shocked that she would say it, and then a little guilty. “I am simply trying to help. The fact is that mages attract demons. And we have plenty of those wandering these days, it’s too much of a risk.” His voice was quieter this time, apologetic.

“And I have lived with two mages in my clan my entire life with no incident. I have never heard of abominations in other clans that follow our training. Some foolish ones will violate the laws of magic, yes, but they bring that upon themselves. Magic is a tool to be used responsibly. Not inherently evil, Commander. Doesn’t your chant say much the same?”

He seemed speechless for a moment and then his face twisted angrily at her implicit insult.

“Commander, go take a walk. Maybe the cool air will clear your head. I think we’re done for the night,” Enfys finished, feeling the fury within her bubbling up as she left the chantry. A man in a suit of armor- not inquisition issued, called after her.

“Excuse me!” His accent was unfamiliar. Where was he from?

She turned and took him in, “How can I help you?”

“My name is Cremisius Aclassi. My boss the Iron Bull would like to invite you to come see what his Mercenary company can do. We’re good fighters, and I’d be happy to escort you to the Storm Coast personally.”

She raised her eyebrow, skeptically. “Your company have a name, soldier?”

“The Bull’s Chargers, Herald. We mainly work for Orlesian nobles, although we would very much like to work with you. We’re a little expensive, but we’re worth it.”

She nodded, “I’ll see to it. Come join me for a drink. I’m sure the trip was exhausting.”

He seemed surprised, but nodded, a smirk breaking out on his face as he followed the elven woman to the tavern.

Morale was important, right? Enfys thought to herself a moment. She had a steady source of money coming in from doing various things. She could really pick up morale for a moment. “Round on me! Ale for everyone who wants it!” she said, striding through the door. There was a rousing cheer from her men and she smiled as Krem looked around before taking a seat with the man who’d followed her.

“So! Cremisius,” she said as an ale was placed alongside her, “Where’s that from?”

He seemed hesitant, “Tevinter. Not on good terms with the country, don’t worry.”

Enfys thought for a second, then shrugged, “And the rest of your group, merc boy?”

“All kinds. There's a dwarf, a Dalish elf, a city elf, another couple humans. Oh and Bull himself is a Qunari.”

Enfys raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

Cremisius nodded and took a swig of his ale. “Oh, and call me Krem.

“Krem. Nice nickname,” she said, “So what’s happening in the storm coast that I need to see this show?”

“Bunch of Tevinter raiders on the coast. We’re gonna take em out.”

“Well then. I can’t wait for the performance,” she said with a quick wink. Krem turned bright red and his eyes went wide. Oh, he was precious. For a human. At least he didn’t treat her awkwardly- as if surprised an _ELF_ led the inquisition the way most people did. Plus, a mercenary band sounded like a good idea to have on their side, considering some of the talent her soldiers were lacking.

 

* * *

 

 

They arrived several days later in northern Ferelden, the rain pelting down, true to the area’s name. It was cold rain, the kind that chilled your bones and soaked through your skin. Luckily she had good equipment, and it didn’t affect her as much as it could have. Still, she shivered whenever a gust struck. They met Scout Harding near the coast, and Enfys took refuge for a moment inside the tents as Krem left to go meet with his company.

“God this weather is fucking delightful,” Enfys scathed. “Let’s get this over with.” Varric offered her his flask with a smirk, and she smiled, “There’s a reason we keep you around after all besides fantastic aim, then.”

“What can I say? I’m good at what I do,” he said with a smirk as Enfys took a few gulps of the whiskey.

Immediately heat shot through her, and she shivered again, this time in a good way. “Alright team, let’s move.”

It turns out, it wasn’t as far as she expected. A few hundred meters from camp, she heard fighting already. And there they were, the Bull’s Chargers, led by a gigantic Qunari who was absolutely annihilating these raiders. Leading the charge, Enfys went into stealth, immediately stabbing one in the back and slashing at him one dagger after the other.

Her people followed suit, Cassandra charging, Bianca’s rapid firing, and Solas’s barriers up and soon the entire raider group was down. She washed her daggers quickly in the ocean before returning to the scene and sheathing them, and looked for the man who had originally invited her through Krem.

The Iron Bull flashed a grin at her and she wondered if she’d ever seen anyone so large in her life. All that muscle, not a shirt in sight, and his horns larger than any Qunari she’d encountered. She’d never noticed the way Qunari ears pointed, either.

She wondered why that made her so… curious.

 

* * *

 

Green, darkness, spiders, never-ending spiders overwhelming her as a voice called to her. Pain, confusion, fear, more voices, screams. Creators, her hand was glowing, on fire with the veil as demons poured into her thoughts. This could end, they said, you could end this all. Their whispers pulled at her will, their fingers like stretched sinews approaching her. She would not fall.

She couldn’t! She screamed and tried to run, but they had her legs, the sound was muffled as they approached and then-

She awoke in a sweat, her hand glowing and her heart racing, to find solas staring at her. Cassandra was right behind, looking at her with worry.

“The seeker sent for me when she saw your state. I hope you do not mind that I woke you.”

“Are you alright, Enfys?” Cassandra spoke plainly, but there was a tinge of doubt, of fear, lining her gruff voice.

“Yes, I-,” She said, the sweat making strands of hair stick to her forehead, “Give me a moment.”

Solas reached out and helped her to her feet, pulling her from the tent to come sit by the dwindling fire. She managed, with his help and on wobbly knees, to sit on a log nearby. With a wave, he made sure the flames didn’t die, and kneeled before her, studying her hand. "It is this mark. It draws demons to you more aptly than mages. You must have quite the determination to fight them off as you did. I shall keep a closer eye on you, if that is agreeable." She nodded in affirmation and regretted the motion instantly.

She felt faint, and she was sure he knew, but he wrapped one arm around her back to keep her upright. She looked down at him, inspecting the glow that was now fading. As he stood again, he moved his hand to her shoulder and she tried to catch her breath again. He motioned for Cassandra to get something, but Enfys didn’t pay attention.

He offered her a potion of something, “This will put you to sleep once again. I will ensure no nightmares take you this time.”

She smiled at him and took a swig, feeling the effect immediately. Nothing hurt, and she smiled, “You’re so TALL, solas,” was the last thing she said before she passed out completely into someone’s arms- probably Cassandra- and slept completely soundly for the first time in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Krem so much, so I couldn't resist him interacting with Enfys. She's warming up to humans as you can tell, but there will be a tense discussion with Cullen coming up because HONESTLY he's just SO ADAMANT about FUCKIN TEMPLARS.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enfys writes a letter, Solas assists her in the Fade.

_Eilwen,_

_I’m not sure what’s happening anymore, to be fair. I’m leading this army of sorts, and the chantry is beside itself trying to shame us. Doesn’t help that their templars stalked off and left Val Royeaux defenseless though._

_I miss the clan, yes, but I am here, and thus, it is my home. Even if I have to deal with frankly idiotic humans. Did you know someone asked me if my ears could hear the maker’s plan better the other day? Thank the creators for my ambassador, Josie. She kept me from killing that guy, I swear. She’s not so bad. She’s even asking me about our clan’s culture._

_I don’t want to alarm you, but there is a downside to all of this. That… thing in my hand is pretty freaky. It’s bringing me nightmares, like you used to have when you first got your magic. The kind you’d stay up all night trying to avoid? A mage here is helping, but you can only stave off nightmares for so long. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t scared._

_Anyway, stay put for now, okay? I know the halla are probably restless, but you should just stay near Wycome for now. Please. And put up as many wards as you can._

_-En_

 

* * *

 

The knock at her door came as soon as she finished, rolling up the parchment and sealing it with candlewax, “Enter,” she called.

Solas, right on time, “I did not mean to interrupt, if you have business to attend.”

She smiled, “No, but thank you. I’m… starting to worry this potion might catch up with me. I slept far too long this morning, even through soldiers in my cabin, shaking me awake.” She tried not to look nervous, but she had to admit, this kind of thing was a little scary.

The other elf simply nodded, “It can do that. If you wish-,” he hesitated, looking contemplative, “There is another method I may try, but it would involve personal intervention.”

Enfys looked confused, what could that possibly mean? Her grey eyes locked with his, “If you wouldn’t mind going into detail…?”

He smiled slightly, as he always did whenever she asked a question, “I have told you of some of my travels in the fade, yes?” Enfys nodded, and he continued, “I can walk through dreams, share them with others, if I so choose. I may be able to keep watch over you in the fade, ensure nothing goes amiss.”

“So,” she said, trying to clarify, “You’d be in the fade, watching me? In my- In my dreams?” She suddenly felt nervous about this idea, but the idea of demons possessing her while she slept was worse than him watching her innermost thoughts.

“I know it can be overwhelming, but I will do my best to stay out of the dream itself and simply be on the lookout for trouble.”

So he wouldn’t interfere, but only watch? She frowned.

“You have doubts.” It was not a question, but she felt slightly embarrassed anyway.

“I- I’m sorry, the thought of someone watching my dreams is-,”

“It can be overwhelming for some. But-,” he said, stepping just a tiny bit closer as he looked at her, his eyes locking with hers again, “I have seen you overcome far worse than a few demons.”

She was speechless for a minute, her mouth going a little dry as he gazed at her intensely. He was quiet, focused, and rarely asked for a thing, she knew. But he was insistent, and she knew she could not say no, if only for safety’s sake.

He stepped back, going for the door, “I shall meet you in the Fade tonight. Perhaps it will not be as bad as you imagine.” He stepped through and closed the door behind him, leaving her, once again, alone.

Nervously, she prepared for bed, hoping he was right, that his presence would ensure no further demon incidents. And what if she dreamt again of Eilwen? Or a compromising situation? She was in charge here, and she couldn’t have him thinking less of her because she had such dreams.

The rational part of her mind assured her that he was understanding enough to excuse it, but a smaller, more troublesome part said _yes, let him watch_. 

 

* * *

 

She found herself at the bank of a lake, young, no more than 17, skipping rocks with Eilwen. It was always Eilwen. Her staff was tossed away and they laughed, making fun of each others’ technique while Enfys accused her of using magic to be better at it. 

“Tell you what,” the redhead said, tucking a stray hair behind her long, tapered ears, “If I get 10 skips on this rock, you can kiss me.” They had never kissed before. Hugged, slept next to one another in camp, held hands...

“Er-,” Young Enfys felt herself saying, “That sounds good, but no cheating, okay? You have to win this fairly!”

Eilwen flashed her a smile and flicked her wrist- the stone flew out, skipping beautifully. 8. 9. 10. 11. 12. As it sunk, she turned to look at Enfys with a smirk, one eyebrow quirked.

Enfys surged forward and cupped Eilwen’s face in her hands, kissing her softly, sweetly, before pulling away, too scared to do anything more. Eilwen grabbed her hands, her eyes softening, and pulled her in again.

Before their lips met this time, though, she heard the crunch of someone approaching. Enfys pulled away, speaking to the interloper, “Cad, we’re fine- we had lunch alrea-,”

it was not Cadfael.

Solas. Immediately, the memory of their conversation flooded back. She was older, wasn’t she? This was a memory. Eilwen vanished, leaving them alone by the bank.

“You are new to conscious dreaming in the Fade, it is only natural to let yourself be lost in memory,” he said, by way of greeting.

She felt slightly embarrassed, “Yes. Well.”

“There is no need to be frightened of my judgement, lethallan,” His voice was soft, smooth, comforting. It had been some time since anyone had called her that, and the familiar word made her feel more at ease, “You seemed close with her. Was she important to you?” He walked up beside her as she looked at the ground, still a little embarrassed that he had watched all of that.

“Eilwen, first to the keeper in my clan. She and I- we were young and infatuated. It didn’t work out, eventually.”

He chuckled, “We all have adventures.”

She looked up at him, “Even you?”

“Especially,” he said, smirking, “Not all of them good.”

“So,” she started, “This is what you meant? Meeting me in my dreams to keep me safe?”

Solas shrugged, “You seemed… hesitant about me watching you passively. I thought this might be less embarrassing for you. Your conversation is always welcome, and you seem interested in what I say, so in essence this is no different from our normal talks.”

He picked up a stone and threw it idly, his wrist flicking perfectly.

“Fourteen,” she remarked, chuckling, “Good thing _you_ didn’t ask for a kiss.”

She didn’t miss his small smile as he met her gaze again, “Yes. Quite a good thing.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gonna be speeding things along here in a bit, don't expect rewrites of Redcliffe or anything. I need to get to Skyhold already! Haha. Just had to build the tension a bit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enfys deals with seeing her companions so corrupted in the future, and the aftermath leaves her on the verge of breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: this chapter has a description of an anxiety attack (and working through one).
> 
> I never felt like the emotional impact of the Future was really talked about enough, and if I were the inquisitor this would have probably been my reaction. The writing here is very choppy on purpose, as though she can't focus too long on anything.

Helping the mages turned out to be almost as horrifying as the breach in the sky.

Nightmares again, only soothed by Solas’s presence, having to explain that she saw him in the future, eaten up by red lyrium, consumed from the inside, and how she watched as his body was tossed aside like nothing.

But it was done, and she steeled herself. Much of her time was spent avoiding overthinking. She trained, she made her daggers perfect, she fixed tiny rips in her long duster. Anything- anything but think about what had happened.

She told only those she felt needed to know. Solas, for his presence in her dreams. Leliana, for her closeness to the mission.

There was only so much that could be done.

 

* * *

 

The dagger hit the target. Not good enough, 3 rings out, 45 degrees. She narrowed her eyes, steadying her stance as she reared her arm back again.

_Whispers, the lyrium singing so loud even she could hear it, demons snarling just rooms away, screams in the distance, her hand ached and glowed as the sky tore apart the fabric of reality._

She lost her grip on the dagger, and her hands shook briefly. She shook her limbs out and resumed her stance. Target, Enfys, hit the target.

_“I saw you die!”_

Her hands shook again, and she sat on the ground, holding her head in her hands. 

“Take a break Boss.”

Iron Bull, his shadow covering her own like an oak on a sunny day.

She hadn’t told him yet, that she’d seen him. He hated demons. He would hate to hear it.

“I’m tired, Bull,” she lied into her shaking hands, the knots in her stomach refusing to untangle.

His voice was softer than his usual booming. “Among other things. Let’s get you back to the cabin.” He gave her no choice, picking her up by the duster. He kept a large hand on her upper back as they walked up the stairs slowly. He could have easily carried her, she knew. He was being considerate. There were troops watching, they couldn’t see their herald fall.

She wondered if he could feel her shaking.

He was a spy- a good one. Of course he did.

“I’m sorry.” The first words she’d spoken that weren’t small talk in what felt like weeks.

“You’ve been good about not showing that in front of the troops,” He nodded, letting his hand leave her back as she sat on the bed, letting her cover her face again as the tremors resumed, harder out of sight of everyone else. “I won’t call it weakness, because that’s not what it is. It’s what happened to me in Seheron.”

The elf looked up suddenly- him? She tried to picture him shaking, weak.

“Although, from what Dorian has told me, this is a lot worse.” He took a chair from her desk and placed it in front of her before sitting.

She nodded. _Demon armies. Her friends, killed before her, their bodies discarded, their bodies diseased, worn, dying…_

_Failure_ , said the voice in her head, _It will happen anyway_. Her lungs were lead, hard to move, and her breath left her in short bursts.

“Hey, listen.” His voice was still gentle. She looked up and met his eye. 

He continued, “Good. First thing, your breathing is important, okay? I know you’re scared. I’m scared too, boss, we all are.”

She tried to keep the incredulity from showing, but it must have slipped through. She tried focusing on her breath. In, burning, her teeth chattering in the cold, out, too fast, too ragged.

“That’s it, keep it up.” Bull was being too kind. She was weak, she knew she was weak, she couldn’t lead an army. She could barely lead a hunting party. _Everyone would die, everyone she knew, corrupted and fed to the demon armies of the Elder One and she would be to blame._

“I can’t-,” Enfys said, her breath rushing out at once as tears threatened to spill. Her heart raced and so did her thoughts and she gasped for breath as if drowning. Bull took her hand- so small in his own- and placed it on his chest.

“You can, Boss, feel me breathing and just try to match it, okay?” He took a deep breath and she tried, but it was too much, she couldn’t breathe that slowly when she was going to fail them and she knew it. But he kept going, and she felt his chest move with every breath, his hand covering her small, shaking limb.

Slowly, she felt herself normalizing between dry sobs, her breath returning to a slow pattern, even as some escaped tears rolled down her cheeks. She focused on the hand on his chest, the movement and how his skin felt. He was so _warm_ , even shirtless in this cold weather.

“See? You beat it,” He said, grinning.

She let her hand fall, then, breathing on her own now. She still shook slightly, but he was right, she’d gotten it under control.

“Thank you. I didn’t even tell you what was wrong and you just knew,” her voice was raspy, tired. The exhaustion hit all at once. It was like she’d run two miles fighting demons the whole way.

“Happens a lot under the Qun. Never talked about. You learn how to manage it alone, after a while. Thought it was a Qunari thing until I started the Chargers.” He was still smiling, still watching her.

“I-,” she started, “I think I need to sleep. That took a lot out of me. Could you tell Solas I’m sleeping now? He’s-he keeps me safe in the Fade. Demons.” She laid back on her bed, hearing Bull standing and chuckling as her eyes drifted shut.

“Of course. Sleep well.”

The door closed and she fell into a dream.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fade kissing, also getting drunk with friends

Skyhold was magnificent, and the exhausted band found comfort within the sturdy, if slightly crumbled, walls. It would take them a lot of work to restore, but it could be done, and they would all be safe.

No more Havens, Enfys told herself. These people were her new clan, they trusted her despite her reservations about humans, so she needed to care for them as a Keeper would care for their clan.

Inquisitor was her title now, and she preferred it greatly to “Herald”. “An elf will lead us all,” she’d said, and they _cheered_ as if they knew what it meant, what that entailed, that her people could rule again.

A crowd of shemlen standing there as she stood above them, cheering for _her_ , for what she represented.

To think two short years ago, she’d been busy stealing shem horses and crops, vandalising and writing elvhen slurs on the doors of those who had wronged her kind, and this is where she was now. A leader, who inspired this group of people so much that people had died for the cause. The hole in the sky had all done this, and for just a moment, she was glad it happened.

 

* * *

 

 

Making the rounds as she did each morning lately, she came across Solas in the rotunda, who had seemed to take up painting frescoes on the walls. They were beautiful, obviously inspired by ancient Elven art. His fingers were stained with paint and the room smelled of the ink. She smiled up at him, and he withdrew, finishing his spot before dropping his paints and climbing down to greet her.

“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” she said, respectfully.

“I’d been wondering if they kept you later this morning.” His smile was slight, but she could see it travel up to his eyes. Somehow even the smallest smile felt like a grin. She wondered if he did that on purpose.

“Well, no, I just got caught up in reports, actually. I’m still not very good at writing quickly.” Enfys felt her cheeks burn at the admission. Surely he wouldn’t mock her, she thought.

“I understand, lethallan. You work so hard lately, and yet you always make time to visit. Did you need something?”

She was curious, she was always curious. After his help in the fade when the demons threatened her, she had learned so much and yet he remained a mystery. She wanted to know everything, who he was before all of this, why he helped her so much, why he stayed- “Would you tell me more about yourself? I’m curious to know more.”

And this time, his smile was wide, “Let us go someplace more interesting.”

Somehow, she found herself in Haven. Did this make sense, a part of her brain asked. Yes, of course, the majority replied. This was perfectly natural, right? She’d just been standing right here this whole time.

Her brain felt fuzzy. But Solas stood next to her, talking about how she had been found, how he’d wanted to run. He seemed so clear here, and he was more relaxed than usual. Tuning back in, she spoke.

“But you stayed,” she said, and he smiled again.

He told her of the mark, “I felt the whole world change.”

Did he mean-

“You felt… the whole world change?”

“It is a figure of speech.”

“I’m more interested in ‘felt’,” she said, smirking. Surely he didn’t mean, but if he did-

He looked at her, hesitating, “You change… everything.”

Her heart was fluttering, and she felt the blush return to her cheeks, “Sweet Talker.” She looked down. She was muddled up, something still stirred in her whenever she saw him, and he’d helped her so much, she couldn’t put the feeling to words, but she’d never been good with feeling anyway. It had been years since Eilwen, it had taken that long to recover, to put the other girl out of her mind and think of her in a new light... And yet, she felt something stir in her heart when he found her in the Fade at night, nights spent talking and telling stories together... She took a breath and grabbed the back of  his neck, pulling him down and-

She kissed him slowly, pressing her lips to his softly. He made no move for a moment, and she felt her heart clench as she pulled away. What if she’d offended?

But then he was pulling her back, his arms around her, and their lips were on each other once more. His tongue slipped through to tease her and she reciprocated eagerly. Had kissing always felt like this, Enfys wondered, pulling back only to find his mouth on hers once more for one last time. He pulled away this time, stepping back slightly.

“We shouldn’t- it isn’t right- not even here.”

And she realized. The Fade.

Waking in her bed a few moments later, she laughed aloud. She’d finally taken action, moved on after Eilwen and of course it WOULD be in the fade. Her lips still tingled, and her heart still fluttered as though he had really kissed her, really put his hands on hers. _Incredible_! She tore down the stairs and back into his rotunda, where he greeted her, looking fairly smug.

“Sleep well?”

“That was amazing!” Enfys said, grinning. After they’d spent so long talking in the Fade, she should have realized right away. Perhaps if she were a mage it would be easier. “That’s just- I didn’t even know!”

“Then I was doing it correctly. Thank you for indulging me.”

She hoped he didn’t mean the kiss, “I’ve never done something like that.”

“Forgive me. The kiss was impulsive and ill-considered and I should not have encouraged it.”

She smirked, “Well, I encourage it, that was amazing. And if there’s more where that came from… I would certainly like to… encourage… it.” If he rejected her now, she supposed it was no harm, but after that… she’d be thinking of it for weeks.

“I- It has been a long time,” He seemed genuinely conflicted, his eyes not meeting hers, “I need- I need to consider this. If that is alright?” He looked back up at her, and she nodded.

“Of course. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable?” She frowned, and he shook his head.

“No,” he replied, “In fact, I am very comfortable in your presence.” He smiled again, and this time, she got the distinct impression that he _was_ , in fact, _flirting_. She felt her face heat up yet again and she stuttered.

“G-great, then, I’ll talk to you later!” She fled, making for her quarters to think in a place she could blush in peace.

 

* * *

 

It was Dorian’s suggestion, getting drunk after a hellish day of dealing with noble pricks. Really, she had to hand it to him, he may have been a human Vint magister (‘altus’, he corrected every time), but he was alright. Especially when she was drunk.

They sat on the second floor of the tavern, Enfys tipping precariously on her chair while halfway through her 6th? 7th? flagon of ale. Maryden was singing a drinking song, and Dorian and Enfys drank in time with the song’s demand as half the tavern sang along.

“Where IS everyone? All the soldiers are here, where the fuck is Sera?” Enfys glared at the closed corner door spitefully, attempting to will it open. "She always says I'm so elfy but she's usually willing to drink with me at least!"

“Well, a little birdy told me that a serving girl slipped into her little room not too long ago. Very discreet. I’m sure if we disturbed her we’d be finding frogs in our underclothes for months.”

Enfys howled with laughter, “SHE’S SCREWING LUCIE? Oh priceless, I’m gonna harass her about this for months.”

“There has to be someone who can join us, it’s hardly a party with TWO.”

And as Enfys scanned the tavern, she saw a ghost. Immediately, she stumbled to her feet, her pulse going light and she grabbed the chair for support.

Red-brown hair swept to one side, green eyes narrowed, Sylaise’s vallaslin inked upon her left eye with a dark green ink. She walked carefully, a staff strapped to her back, although it seemed her pack had already been dumped somewhere in Skyhold.

The stranger approached them with a smile, and Enfys lost her breath.

“Hello, may I join you? I came here to get as drunk as possible after a terrible ride, but you seem to be pleasantly ahead of me.”

“I-uh, Hello.” Enfys said eloquently.

Dorian watched, “Someone I need to meet?”

Enfys closed her mouth and sighed, “God it’s good to see you,” she said to the girl, who grinned, “Dorian, this is Eilwen. She’s from my clan!” Eilwen shook Dorian’s hand and turned back to the blonde.

Eilwen pounced, pulling Enfys into a hug. Eilwen made a pathetic noise. She felt homesick, gripping her ex-lover tightly as she took in the familiar scent of incense and elfroot that meant Eilwen. Eilwen gripped her tightly before pulling away, holding Enfys’s hands.

“I missed you En.”

“And I missed you, Eil.”

Eilwen looked fondly into Enfys’s bright grey eyes for a moment, a touch of sadness in her gaze, before she smiled brightly and took another chair to join Enfys and Dorian at their table, “Now, my friends. I need to drink until I forget that awful trip to Skyhold, and if you fail to get me sufficiently pissed, I’ll steal your clothes and throw them in the snow.”

Both Enfys and Dorian cheered and flagged down the nearest waitress for another flagon of ale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God this was a tough chapter. I think I wrote and re-wrote this like four times over. I hope the kiss reads okay, it's always hard adapting existing scenes without making it boring, and I don't want to diverge from canon TOO much, but yeah!. And don't worry about Eilwen, their relationship is done, so she's there to be a good friend to Enfys.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eilwen helps Enfys settle into her new leadership role. Enfys and Solas spend time considering what's between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WELL HELLO surprise I haven't abandoned this yet, it's just slow going. I was stuck on how to make them advance without really moving too much further and I think this was a good way to go. Definitely gonna be slightly sexy next chapter, just forewarning. Thanks for sticking with me!

For a couple weeks, Enfys threw herself into work, helping with the renovations as much as possible, keeping the peace in the new hold. Eilwen was right beside her, a confidant and friend who had been sorely missed. She felt, finally, she wasn’t completely on her own. As much as she’d grown attached to the group, there was still the absence of her clan. It was a part of her life she’d never known she’d miss so much.

The clan had been her home, even as she’d almost forsaken it in the name of justice for her people. Perhaps absence had taught her that better than any lecture from the Keeper.

In many ways, Eilwen had helped her settle into the role as leader. The mage had been trained in the Keeper’s ways, she knew how to stop arguments, how to make decisions, how to command without overbearing. She counseled Enfys, alerting her to problems she didn’t even know existed.

Enfys thought about the fact that Eilwen was very nearly the one sent to the conclave. If she’d have gone… well, things would have been a lot smoother. Enfys felt out of place despite the help, going through the motion, trying to be the Good Figurehead. And yet, day after day of humoring shemlen nonsense was wearing her patience thin. (How many etiquette lessons did Josie insist on making her sit through, anyway?)

She knew she’d be leaving soon, get to kill things first hand, and it kept her going. She was good at that, at least.

She’d been… sort of avoiding Solas. A little. He said he needed to consider… things? Right? His presence in the Fade at night still put her to rest, but he hadn’t met her there lately. There was no intervening at night, and she missed his presence.

There was no doubt, however, that he’d recognized Eilwen. The two had spoken, but only once. She wondered, briefly, if he was jealous. Could he even be jealous? The elf seemed unrattled by most things. After all, whatever had transpired between Enfys and Solas, it was new, and Eilwen was simply a friend now.

In the Enfys’s task tonight was simple, oversee the training yard as they concluded for the day, give a small speech about the progress of the Inquisition, etc. As she made her way, she noticed Solas was not in the rotunda like he usually was. Curiously, she made her way outside to observe training.

The soldiers were working hard, Cullen stopping to correct one or another here and there as they practiced sparring. He worked hard, but there was still something about him that made Enfys think twice before speaking before him. She supposed it was her predisposition toward fending off templars (they’d always made trouble for the clan), and though she knew he was working to change his own thoughts, she found it harder to trust him than her other advisors.

On the other hand, in the mages’ area, stood Eilwen, Staff raised, a wisp darting about her as she conjured a complex barrier Enfys had only ever seen the Keeper perform. Enfys didn’t know much about magic, but she knew enough to recognize a purely dalish technique. There was just something different about the way Eilwen cast compared to circle mages, although she couldn’t put her finger on it.

And Eilwen was teaching it to shemlen mages?

Enfys frowned, wondering if she should be feeling this possessive over a simple technique, one that could undoubtedly save many lives.

“It is a risk, teaching that technique. She’s undoubtedly skilled, but if she missteps, that wisp could be enough to cause damage,” Solas commented, stepping up next to Enfys as she looked over.

“I’m assuming this isn’t exactly circle-approved?”

Solas chuckled, “You’d be right. You have more of a sense of magic than you think.” There was a pause as they watched Eilwen cast again, the wisp flying about inside her barrier, watching a few mages try to copy her. “Your friend is teaching them Dalish magic.”

“My Keeper used those barriers to protect the aravels. And our halla,” Enfys said quietly, “I’m not sure how to feel about shemlen using these spells.”

Solas hummed, “I cannot tell you what to think, but your mages knowing this spell may indeed be for the best, for now.”

Enfys looked at him, “What do you think of it?”

“I am not dalish, it would be difficult to feel possession of a magic that does not belong to me.”

There it was again, that pang that reminded her just how different they truly were. The bell signaled for the end of training and Enfys turned to him, “I have to go say a few words, but I-,” she trailed off.

“If you could meet me afterward, I would appreciate it,” he said, a small smile on his face as he watched her.

Her heart fluttered just slightly. “Of course, Solas.”

He stepped away, and she was once more The Inquisitor, stepping forward to make her speech.

* * *

 

It had taken longer than usual to say her piece and mingle with her soldiers, not that she minded. But Solas was waiting, and she was a little nervous, in all honesty. He was alone in the rotunda, as always. Enfys entered, finding him poring over an old, dusty book.

“Solas?”

He took his time looking up, putting a small mark in the page where he had stopped before gingerly setting the book back down on his desk.

“Enfys,” He smiled, then, standing to meet her, “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, did you have something to discuss?” Was that too formal? She felt so self-conscious all at once, trying to smile.

“I-,” he broke off, seemingly searching for the right words, “Your friend, I know she’s- how to put this. You were involved, yes?”

Ah. Of course, she’d wondered his thoughts on the situation. Perhaps we’ll see if he gets jealous, said a nasty part of Enfys’s brain. She wondered if he’d ask her to send Eil away again, go back to the clan. She wasn’t sure she’d say yes, even if she did like him.

“We were, there’s nothing of that anymore.” Enfys wrung her hands together, hoping her nerves weren’t blatant. “What was between us was over a long time ago. But I am glad she’s here. She- she helps.”

“I was simply curious, forgive me. I have seen more of you than most here, within the Fade, as you know.” Solas mer her eyes, stepping closer. He took both her wringing hands in his own, and, surprisingly, brought one to his lips, brushing them against her knuckles almost reverently before letting them fall, still within his own hands.

Enfys noticed it’d gotten a little harder to breathe.

Solas simply smirked, looking rather pleased with himself.

“I take it you’ve… considered… then.” It was all she could manage to say, and she felt foolish. Creators, had his lips always been so tempting before their kiss in the fade?

“Perhaps,” he replied. “I simply want to know what options there are.”

She wanted so badly to lean forward and steal another kiss, but he’d asked for time. She wondered if he could feel her pulse through her hands.

“T-tomorrow,” she began, her mind still racing as he continued to look smug with her state, “We could talk. I have the afternoon off, and we can speak more in my quarters? Because it’s private. There.”

He nodded, smiling, “Of course, Inquisitor, I would be overjoyed to spend time talking with you. In private.”

He was flirting again, of course, and Enfys took the opportunity to run from the room in as dignified a manner as she could manage, her boots echoing her heartbeat as she made her way toward the great hall.

 


End file.
